


"diamonds and rust"

by tchouli



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Comfort, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship/Love, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Laughter, Loss, Memories, Post-Episode s05e13 Return 0, Regret, Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-25 19:45:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18170627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tchouli/pseuds/tchouli
Summary: "We both know what memories can bringThey bring diamonds and rust"Joan Baez





	"diamonds and rust"

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song of the same name by Joan Baez  
> my own prompt from lyrics in the song

The embers glowing in the fireplace sparked periodically, almost defiantly, as if to prove that they still had life even if their audience had long ago succumbed to the shared combination of alcohol and emotions. Three bodies lay spent in various states across the couches in front of the fireplace, their reflections flickering through the empty bottles and glasses strewn across the table.

Hours earlier Harold had reluctantly agreed to meet up with Sameen and Lionel before he left for Italy. The three of them had been picking up the pieces of their lives in the days that followed the final battle with Samaritan and the loss of John. Sameen had made it her mission to track down Root’s assassin. Lionel split his time between caring for Bear and trying to readjust to the comparative mundanity of his day job. Harold just wanted to forget. He had decided, because John had wanted it for him, to go to Italy to find Grace and to see if he could start a new life, one without John. Whenever Harold thought about it he felt sick, but John had wanted him to live.

They were meeting at one of the last surviving safe houses, an apartment that Harold still owned. The first to arrive, Harold hesitated before unlocking the door. He didn’t think he could go through with this. With a shuddering sigh, he turned the key and let the door swing open as he just stood there. The apartment was exactly as they had left it the last time they had all been here together. That was the night they had reunited Kelli Lin with her daughter. The apartment had been close by and they had come here to celebrate the conclusion of a successful mission. 

They had all sat right there at that table; Harold stared, lost in his memories. Lionel had gone on about what a good team they made when John had interjected, “There’s one teammate missing”. Then John slid an empty glass across the table and filled it with Scotch. As the fire crackled and the flames cast shadows across the table, they all raised their glasses in a silent toast to their lost friend. 

_“Now there are two more teammates missing”_ Harold thought despairingly to himself. Still transfixed, he was trying to hold back the tears when Sameen and Lionel arrived. Sameen had a bottle of Scotch in one hand and Bear’s leash in the other. She unclipped the leash and Bear raced to Harold. Bear was so ecstatic to see Harold that he almost turned himself inside out. Shaken from his reverie, Harold stooped down as much as he could and buried his face in Bear's fur and just let the memories overtake him. Bear stood patiently and whined softly as if to comfort, while Harold sobbed into his coat. “I’m so sorry, boy” Harold whispered to Bear, smoothing back the fur that was damp from his tears and hugging Bear. Once his crying had stopped and he had himself under control, Harold with effort straightened and looked at Sameen and Lionel who waited with understanding faces and suspiciously red eyes as they too had been caught up in the moment. 

Lionel broke the silence and held up the bag he brought, “Just in case anyone gets hungry. I brought the grub”. He chuckled because they all knew that Sameen was always hungry. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and headed to the kitchen to put away the food, when he returned, he started a fire in the fireplace not so much because it was cold but rather for the ambiance. Sameen went to the bar and grabbed three of the lowball glasses that Harold kept there and carried them to the table and started opening the Scotch. Harold joined her. Lionel, once he had the fire going, grabbed the club soda he had left in the kitchen and took a seat. Harold noted to himself they had subconsciously chosen the same chairs and places as the last time they’d met here. With this thought, Harold found himself starting to brood as Sameen poured them both a Scotch and then club soda for Lionel.

The feeling of déjà vu hovered around them becoming almost palpable, a fourth presence stilling their conversation. When it became too unbearable, they wordlessly took their drinks and moved to the living room, where the fire in the fireplace warmed everything but the mood.

The living room, actually a couple of steps down from where they had been sitting, was in the “sunken” style so popular in the 1960’s. The focus was the fireplace, a majestic marble façade, fronted by three couches that formed a square U. Lionel stoked the fire and added another log and then joined Sameen on one of the side couches. Harold had chosen the couch that faced directly into the fire. Bear lay at his feet.

They sipped their drinks and quietly sat for a while just appreciating the fire no one spoke but all of their thoughts were on their missing friends who had both been lost in the war with Samaritan: Root dead by an assassin’s bullet just days before the final confrontation and, even though they never found a body, they all knew that John had to be dead. No one, not even “the man in the suit”, could have survived the missile. 

Finally, with tears in his voice Harold spoke, “I want to remember them. I never want to forget who they were to me…to us”. He blew out a breath to regain control and absently petted Bear, who had moved so that his head was now resting on Harold’s knee. Harold ran his fingers over the fur around Bear’s eyes and ears in the way that Bear liked. Then with a distant look, Harold started talking. He spoke in that precise way that he had and shared stories with Sameen and Lionel. Sometimes talking over each other, the three celebrated their missing friends and loved ones. 

Their impromptu wake continued. When the fire started to burn low, Lionel got up and added more wood and stoked the embers until the flames licked the edges of the wood like fingers dancing. He then headed to kitchen to grab more club soda and some food for them. Lionel returned to the couch, placing the food on the low square coffee table, as Sameen poured more Scotch for herself and Harold. In between bites they kept John’s and Root’s memory alive. The room resonated with the sounds of laughter and crying. 

“You know I am a very private person” Harold said quietly more to himself than the others as unshed tears hovered at the edges of his eyes looking for a reason to escape. He would have given anything, anything, share every secret he had for one more moment with John, for John to be alive. Harold had so many regrets, but his greatest regret was that he had never told John how much he meant to him, how much he loved him. Having recognized that Harold was starting to relapse back to guilt and regret, Sameen quickly took control and soon had them all laughing again. She hoped this would shake Harold out of the depression she could see taking hold. 

But Sameen’s own laughter died down as they started reminiscing about Root. Sameen’s voice was quiet when she said “Root told me once ‘that if all we were was noise in the system, we might as well be a symphony’.” She continued on, “For all of Root’s crazy stunts, the rotating identities, the risks she took, she had changed because of all of us, for all of us. She had our backs. We were her family.” Sameen angrily downed the rest of her Scotch and poured another. “Damn it all,” Sameen muttered to herself “I didn’t even get to say goodbye or to tell you how much you mean to me.” 

Harold hadn’t spoken much during the stories about Root. Of them all, his relationship with her was the most tumultuous. But now he felt like he needed to. He started “Miss Groves -- Root, was one of the most unique people I have ever met. She had such _joie de vivre_.” He voice broke but he continued “I miss her so very much”. He stopped, closed his eyes as tears slid down his cheeks. Sameen got up and moved to Harold’s side to comfort him as his words had comforted her. 

It was getting late and Harold was pretty much in his cups as was Sameen. Everyone planned to spend the night since there was plenty of room in the safe house. Lionel was staying to watch over his friends not only to make sure they were ok, but also because he didn’t want to be alone. The company of his friends –- his family, brought him peace of mind. He went to the kitchen to see that Bear had food and water. As Lionel fed Bear he ruffled his fur and murmured “you miss Wonder Boy and Cocoa Puffs too, I know.” Bear just looked at him and licked his face in agreement.

Lionel returned to the living room and found Sameen on the couch with Harold as she tried to comfort him. "They" say that alcohol loosens your inhibitions which was maybe why Harold never drank a lot. Harold cried silently and he hiccupped every so often. He whispered to himself about how much he loved and missed John and how could he possibly continue on. Sameen shared a look with Lionel. They both had known how John and Harold felt about each other but no one talked about it. If the two of them wanted to pretend, then Sameen and Lionel would too. But both Sameen and Lionel knew it was only a matter of time before Harold broke down under the weight of the guilt and missed opportunities. Harold had been in denial for so long and one of the real reasons they had stopped by was to force a catharsis, to prepare Harold for Italy and a life without John, and to help him start the healing process. 

Lionel and Sameen also shouldered their own burdens. Lionel had now lost not one but two partners, both of whom had helped him to redeem himself in his own eyes as well as the eyes of his son. Sameen, who had such a low emotional boiling point unless it involved anger, had lost a friend and brother in John as well as...how to describe Root? Her soul mate? Her lover? At the very least her friend. This meetup was as much for themselves as it was for Harold.

"Lionel, get some more club soda", Sameen said slurring a bit. Lionel went off to do so. She then took the bottle of Scotch and poured what was left into hers and Harold’s glasses setting the bottle on the table when it was emptied. Lionel soon returned and filled his glass. "A toast” Sameen said and all three stood and lifted their glasses "John and Root...” Sameen’s voice cracked a bit and a tear slid down her cheek "we will never forget you" and she tossed back her drink then threw the glass into the fireplace. Harold and Lionel did the same. Then she sat down next to Harold on the couch and Lionel joined them as they gazed silently into the fire.


End file.
